When I logged on to the internet today, I saw a link on my homepage that instantly drained the blood from my face. It shows an asexual being that they claim is a man applying eyeliner to his lashes. Eyeliner. The caption reads “More men are using make-up everyday.” After cleaning the vomit from my keyboard, I resolved that I had to do something about this. But what?
I started with reading the article. I was holding out some small hope that the headline was misleading. Maybe it was referring to the powdery white sheen from the chalk on a strongman’s hands, or the rosy red that a fighter’s cheeks get when he rubs the blood from his nose across his face. I should have known better. No, apparently more and more men are using concealer. Eyeliner. Fucking lip gloss.
(For the offending article, check out this link, but be warned: Every time they use the word “macho” a baby dies somewhere
Did I miss the boat here? Did we decide in mass to throw every ounce of masculinity out the window? Are we spitting in the face of every woman who ever thought that older men- ya’ know, the ones with the wrinkles and crow’s feet- looked dignified?
Did we all get together at some pan-tribal meeting and say “Hey! There doesn’t need to be any distinction between the sexes! Let’s put on some rouge and all run out for a pap smear!”
Maybe I’m weird. I actually like the fact that men and woman are different. I like that women are pretty to look at and men aren’t. I like that women smell good and men don’t. And I especially like the fact that women use synthetic paints to highlight their particularly feminine sex markers so as to increase their desirability. I’m a goob like that.
What I don’t like is when men- normal, heterosexual men- start to become women. Isn’t it enough that so many of our sex are whiny? Wasn’t it pushed far enough when men started looking at pictures of Kate Moss and thinking “I bet my ribs could look that good?”
See, when women wear make-up it’s feminine. Whether they apply it so thin that you can’t tell it’s there, or layer it on with an industrial paint sprayer, it’s a part of female culture, and culture is an important thing. We men used to have a culture.
But instead of respecting our own culture we feel the need to co-opt women’s culture. Women have a great culture. But it’s theirs. I think its unfair for men to take women’s culture from them. I really do.
What’s next? Do we burn our jock straps? (I hope not- the fumes could be considered weapons of mass destruction).
This is also a signal that narcissism is creeping to an all time high. This “male make-up” thing is just another symptom. I actually know a guy who has several pictures of his abs on his Facebook page. Not full body pictures that are shirtless- just his fucking abs.
This guy also compares himself to Marlon Brando on the page, though, so what do you expect? I know another guy who paints his goddamned fingernails. And not only does he paint them, he meticulously takes a nail file to them to create the “scuffed” look that he finds oh-so-cool. Fucktards.
And the height of narcissism? Me thinking that all of you want to come onto this forum and read my ranting.
What happened to strong, assertive men? Men that accomplished things, men that did what they had to do without caring what other people thought of them? The list of these men of yore is exhaustive- Julius Caesar, George Washington, Martin Luther King Jr, and David Bowie, just to name a few.
What?!?! But David Bowie was completely adrogynous! He even wore make-up for Crissakes! Yes, but he didn’t do it because he cared what other people thought of him. He did it because he didn’t give a tinker’s cuss! And there in lies all the difference.
(What is a “tinker’s cuss,” anyway?)
And I haven’t even had a good workout partner since 2005! The last good partner I had was George Milton, who was just as crazy and hardcore as I am. Every other guy I run into always says “Hey, let’s work out together.” Then I tell them the type of intense workouts that I would like to do.
Beads of sweat roll down their faces. Their eyes dart back and forth. Their lips quiver. They proceed to stare at me like cows chewing cud and say something like “Oh. I thought we might hop on a stationary bike and then do some Pilates.” Argh! (That’s a manly Pirate’s “Argh” by the way, and not a Charlie Brown “Argh”)
And I’ve got news for you! Dancers’ bodies don’t look the way they do because they do Pilates in addition to dancing 4 hours a day. They look they way they do because they dance 4 hours a day!
Sorry. Got sidetracked there.
So here’s my solution. If a man you know wants to dress nice, encourage him. If he wants to get a good haircut, help him find a salon. If he wants to look good naked, tell him that you think that would be great. But if you ever see with make-up on, tell him that he’ll never need to worry about eye shadow- then punch him in the goddamned face.
Those black eyes will go nicely with that shade of lip gloss.